Bedside manners
by Sanctuary Dreamer
Summary: Arthur's new neighbor Francis seems to always be there. Every morning he goes for the paper and Francis is next door, tending to the garden. He wants to greet him but..unfortunately Francis dosen't speak English. So he never gets a chance. However, when Francis suddenly becomes ill, Arthur takes it upon himself to take care for the sick man, despite the communication barrier.


**Just a short Fruk story. I posted it on my Tumblr account as well, with a link to the blog it was inspired by. This AU is not mine! I need to emphasize this, this au does not belong to me. It belongs to the amazing blog! :D Please check it out if you could. The Tumblr username is ask-aph-Fruk. It's such a sweet blog and if you like Fruk, then I can guarantee that you'll love this blog! Thanks! Sorry that Britian is a little out of character.**

"Today your going to do it Arthur. Stop being such a baby." Arthur told himself. He went through this every morning when he went for the newspaper, that was lying on the curb. And every morning his efforts to assure himself were in vain. For you see, Arthur Kirkland, for the first time in a long time, found himself hopelessly in love. Living next door, was a man named Francis Bonnefoy. A man with shimmering blue eyes, beautiful golden locks of hair, and carried himself with such an air of confidence that it put Arthur's somewhat shy nature to shame. Francis had moved in about three months ago, and two of them had hardly spoken a word amongst each other. Every morning, while getting his paper, he would see Francis in his front yard, tending to his garden. And he was forever telling himself to just say 'Hello.' But there was one small problem. The handsome man next door only spoke French. Arthur had learned this the hard way, while trying to introduce himself when Francis had moved in. Hell, the only reason he knew his name, was because it was printed on his mailbox.

But Arthur didn't give up. Soon after this incident, he bought himself some tapes on how to speak French. And every day, he listened to these tapes in order to understand what Francis might be saying, and be able to hold a conversation. But the only problem now, was mustering up the courage to speak to him. He knew some French, but still had plenty of trouble. The most he could say was hello, introduce himself, and ask where the restroom was. Not much for a conversation, but a simple hello shouldn't be so bad right?

He took in a deep breath and abandoned his newspaper. He approached the fence that separated the two of them and peered over it. In order to look into Francis's yard, he had to push the large bushes past and stand on his toes. Per usual, Francis was down on his knees, his wavy hair in a ponytail, and his sleeves rolled up as he worked away. Next to him was a small pile of weeds from his rose garden. Seemed normal enough. But...he wasn't humming like he normally was. Arthur hesitated, having forgotten the French word for hello in his nervousness. He cursed silently under his breath. Bullocks. How could he have forgotten something so simple. Oh well, there was always tomorrow!

He got off, his toes, and was ready to walk away, but he heard Francis let out a heavy sigh. He paused and peered over the fence again. Francis had suddenly stopped in his weed-pulling, and had removed one of his gardening gloves. One of his hands was pressed against his forehead and he had his eyes closed, like he was dizzy. Was he alright? Arthur wanted to ask, but he wasn't all too sure how. Come to think of it though, Francis did look a little pale. Was he ill? It was quite warm today, so perhaps he was just a bit tired. He watched for a moment longer to see what would happen. After a bit, Francis placed both hands on the ground and pushed himself up. Good, he was going to take some rest.

Arthur once again turned around and walked back to his house. But once he reached the front door he hesitated again. "Hmm." He thought. "Maybe ill check on him a little later if he comes outside again. To make sure he isn't-" Before he could even finish his thought, he could hear a sudden thud, making him jump. That came from Francis's yard! He hurried around the fence and to the yard, where his fears were confirmed. Francis was lying on his side in the grass. In a hurry, he rushed to Framcis's side and shifted the man so that his head was on his lap. "Oh god what am I supposed to do? Do I call a bloody ambulance? Do I take him to my house? Leave him here? Oh god..".He glanced down at Francis and...couldn't help but blush. He had never noticed how long his eyelashes were before. Or how soft his lips looked. Or how rosy his cheeks were. But while examining his facile features, he couldn't help but notice how sweaty his brow looked. He placed the back of his hand on the Frenchmans forehead. Goodness, he was burning up!

As he moved his hand away, Francis's eyes opened, revealing those blue eyes that Arthur could fall into. Arthur swallowed and spoke up. "Francis." He said. "Are you alright?"

" _Quoi?"_ Francis responded in a croaky sounding voice. _"Je suis désolé, mais je ne parle pas anglais."_ Arthur frowned. He couldn't understand what Francis was telling him. Francis pulled himself out of Arthur's lap, only for his body to suddenly be wracked with coughs. Arthur kept a hand on Francis's back until the coughing fit ended.

"I think...I think I'll take you back to my house okay? If your sick enough to collapse, then you need someone to take care of you. Alright?" He was given a confused stare. Right, he forgot. He didn't understand. "Just come with me alright?" Arthur stood up and offered his hand to Francis. Francis grasped his hand and pulled himself to his feet. Once he was up, he staggered a bit and fell into Arthur's arms. Arthur kept his arms firmly around Francis and sighed. Looks like...He would have to carry him. He leaned over a bit and placed one arm under Francis's legs, and kept the other on his back, and managed to lift him up, causing Francis to cry out in surprise.

 _"Laissez-passer_!" Francis cried, as he began to struggle a bit, making Arthur stumble and nearly drop him. Thankfully, Francis tired himself out fairly quickly, and didn't put up too much of a fight. Arthur staggered to his front door and managed to push the door open with his food. Thank goodness he hadn't closed it all the way. Ugh, but he still had a flight of stairs to go up. He could just put Francis on the couch, but he didn't want to put the sick man on such a small thing. So with determination in his heart, he slowly trekked up the stairs, careful not to jostle Francis too much. When he finally got to his bedroom, he dropped Francis on the bed. A moment longer and his arms would have given out and Francis would have fallen to the floor.

He brushed off his hands and stared at Francis, not sure what to say to him. "You.." He said, as he pointed to Francis. "...have to rest..." He then made the sleeping motion, with his head resting on his hands. "...here." then he pointed at his bed. He hoped that was easy to understand. Francis frowned and shook his head.

 _"J'ai besoin de rentrer à la maison."_ Francis insisted. He pointed out the window, towards his own house. Ah, so he wanted to go home. Arthur shook his head and simply repeated his earlier instruction, to lie down and rest. Francis huffed and folded his arms. He was obviously not happy with these circumstances.

"Do you want anything?" Arthur asked. And of course got no response. The two stared at each other awkwardly for a moment. Francis sighed and spoke. But he also made signals to try and show what he wanted.

 _"Puis-je avoir de l'eau?"_ As Francis spoke, he rubbed at his throat.

"Your throat hurts?" Arthur asked, pleased that he understood. "I'll be right back!" He left the room and was soon back with some cough drops. Francis looked at what was offered for a moment, before shaking his head. "Oh, that's not what you asked for?" Francis repeated his statement, and rubbed at his throat again. Arthur bit his lip, he couldn't tell what he wanted. And he seemed to be getting frustrated. Finally, Francis threw his arms up in anger.

 _"Je abandonner!"_ He cried out. He lie back down haughtly, making Arthur quite upset.

"All I'm trying to do is help!" Arthur yelled back. "But I can't understand what your saying!." He got no response. Francis didn't say a word back to him. "Fine, be that way!" He said, before storming from the room and slamming the door. The nerve of that Frenchmen! How dare he use that tone of voice to someone in their own home! He could hardly believe that just twenty minutes ago, he was madly in love with the man. Now, he wanted nothing to do with him. He went down the stairs and threw himself onto the couch face first, beyond frustrated. "That selfish twat..." He muttered. "I ought to just kick him out and let him take care of himself. I bet he lives all alone in his stupid little house.

He lie there for God knows how long, letting his anger simmer inside of him. He didn't care what was happening upstairs. But after awhile, his feelings eventually burned out and he started feeling a little guilty for what he said. He rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling. Maybe...maybe he should apologize. He sighed heavily and sat up. He got to his feet and went up the stairs to the bedroom. He opened his bedroom door, only to find Francis there, just a foot or two away from him. Looks like he had gotten out of bed. The blanket was wrapped around his shoulders and dragging on the floor behind him. Was he planning on leaving. Well there's no way he could let him do that. He was looking paler then he did before. Francis seemed surprised and yet a bit grateful to see him. He took a few him.

 _"Où sont vos toilettes?"_ Francis asked. Oh, this sounded very familiar to Arthur. It was something he had learned. He tapped his chin. Let's see...Francis repeated his question, a bit more urgently, his hand pressing against his stomach. Did his stomach hurt him? Wait a moment...if his stomach hurt him..and the question sounded familiar...ah! He must be asking for the-!

Francis suddenly leaned forward, and vomited all over Arthur's socks. Arthur jumped back in shock as Francis was sick. Ah, he was probably asking for the restroom. He didn't come any closer, just stayed in the doorway and watched, unsure of what to do. Once he had heaved to a stop, Francis trembled a bit and lifted his head. Tears were prickling in the corners of his eyes and his cheeks were pink with humiliation. " _J-Je suis désolé."_ Francis said in a shaky voice. Arthur now came closer, carefully stepping over the puddle of vomit.

"Dont worry about it alright? Lets get you to bed." Arthur took his shoulders and led the shaky man back to the bed. He sat Francis down and left for a moment. He came back with a bucket of water and a cloth. He quietly cleaned the vomit from the floor. When he glanced up at Francis, he could tell by the blush on his face that he was pretty ashamed of what he had done. Arthur wished he could talk to him and tell him that it was alright, but he wasn't sure how. So he didn't say anything. Just cleaned up the mess and then took the things he used away. Afterwards, he came back to the room with some water and a cold cloth. He gave Francis the water, which he quickly accepted. Then once the glass was empty, he encouraged Francis to lie down. Once he was on his back, he placed the cool Francis's forehead.

Francis closed his eyes and sighed. _"Ca fait du bien."_ He murmured. " _Merci."_ Arthur didn't say anything back. Just pulled the blankets up to Francis's chin, so that he could be a bit more comfortable.

"Sleep well Francis." Arthur told him. As he turned to leave, he could hear the blankets shift a bit.

 _"Attendez."_ Francis suddenly said. Arthur turned around to face him. _"Allez-vous rester avec moi?"_ Arthur stared at him, before making an 'I don't know' gesture with his hands, to indicate that he didn't know what Francis was saying. Francis shifted a bit and his hand appeared above the blanket, open faced. Ah, it seems he wanted Arthur to...stay with him. Arthur blushed just a bit before coming back and sitting on the bed with Francis. He placed his own hand on top of France's and let it lie there. And within moments, Francis had fallen asleep. Arthur stayed, even as he slept. And eventually, fell asleep as well.

Some time passed between the two of them. Francis was the first to awaken, around noon time. He still didn't feel all that well, but resting sure helped him feel a bit better. He glanced at Arthur for a moment and smiled just a bit. Arthur didn't know it, but Francis had noticed him before. That shy next door neighbor who seemed to want to say something. That straw colored hair, those brilliant green eyes, and those silly, bushy, eyebrows. Was just waiting for the shy man to speak up and say something. He saw those French tapes he had ordered. He was his best. He smiled before closing his eyes to go back to sleep.

Maybe someday...


End file.
